


City of Wonders, City of Dreams

by The Devourer of Words (Camilo_The_Great)



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Afterward, Gen, Monologue, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camilo_The_Great/pseuds/The%20Devourer%20of%20Words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Ramadan, the story of Baghdad. An afterword, as told by the Caliph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City of Wonders, City of Dreams

I am Haroun Ibn Mohammed Ibn Abdullah Ibn Mohammed Ibn Ali Ben Abdullah Ibn Abbas. Once, and never, I was called by my people Al Raschid, first among the faithful. I was Caliph, and mine was the glory and the city of Baghdad, Pearl of cities.

It was the perfect city, in the perfect age.

The traders filled the streets, their wares, extraordinary in any other land, fruits which seemed so plump as to have been plucked not a moment past, silks and perfumes, gemstones larger than a man’s fist, a matter of course in this city. There were slaves and dancing girls from distant lands, and wise men granting fortune and prophesy in equal measure.

Ambassadors came from the ends of the earth to see the miracle that was Baghdad; they returned to their kings, saying, “We have seen the perfect city, walked beneath towers of brass, and there can never be another like Baghdad.” And the kings and their lords, with their small fiefs and dull stone fortresses, knew in their hearts that no matter their deeds, they would never have so marvelous a kingdom as I.

It was an age of miracles, of wonders, of fantasy.

But I had walked the sands outside of my city, the wastes where no travelers go, and seen the ruined walls and fallen towers, statues whose faces none remember. I feared for my city, for Baghdad was the perfect city, and all things must change. Thus I knew, that, having reached perfection, and change being unavoidable, Baghdad could only decline and fall to ruin. Fearing change, desperate to preserve my city, I summoned his brother, into whose care I gave my city of dreams, that it might forever remain Baghdad, the city of miracles, of wonders, and of towers of gleaming brass.

A city remained, buildings of brick and crumbling mud, and streets of hard-packed sand along which traders sold what goods could survive the desert. Madmen screamed from atop piles of trash, and women lurked in the alleyways. All that remained of the other Baghdad, city of wonders, were dreams of golden towers and magic lamps.

It is only as I, Haroun Al Raschid, feel my body beginning to fail that I have begun to remember the true fate of my city of jewels and Djinn, where all that was, was wonder. All that is left of the Baghdad that was are dreams and children’s tales, but perhaps that is the better, for dreams of an enchanted city shall last forever.

I am Haroun Ibn Mohammed Ibn Abdullah Ibn Mohammed Ibn Ali Ben Abdullah Ibn Abbas. Once, and never, and still, I am called Al Raschid, first among the faithful. I am Caliph, and mine is the glory and the memory of Baghdad, pearl of cities.

**Author's Note:**

> comment, criticize, it helps


End file.
